Yesterday

I was in the mall shopping for shoes for my daughter and for me. Suddenly, all things became so silly. I had no patience for shoes, though we found them – Elie was coming home!

I dropped my two younger kids at home, grabbed brownies and the special tuna-corn pancakes that Elie loves, a bottle of ice tea and some cups – and drove. I didn’t take a map; didn’t have the GPS from the other car. I know the general way – I’ll wing it if I have to.

“I’m still inside. I’ll try to get a ride out now,” Elie told me. I wouldn’t be allowed up to the cannons but would meet him at the same place I met him last time. He would try to find someone with a jeep to drive him to the meeting point.

I took a wrong turn – drove twice as fast to get back to the right point. Called Elie when I got to the meeting point and he wasn’t there. The parking lot where I had met him last time was empty. Before it was filled with cars of reservists who had been called to war. There were no buses – last time, there had been three – full of soldiers being moved to and from the front lines. There were no helicopters hovering overheard. But there were signs, “The people embrace our soldiers” and “You fight for our holy land” and simply “The people thank the fighters of Israel.”

“Drive down the road till you get to the military police blocking the back road.” He told me – and I did, past the “Closed Military Zone” sign in Hebrew and in English. The atmosphere was relaxed. I pulled next to another set of parents whose son was now in the car. I smiled at the mother; she smiled at me. There are times words need not be said, and yet volumes have been exchanged.

Elie was standing there with all of his backpacks. He filled the trunk, even put more in the backseat.

“Want me to drive?” he asked.

That’s man-talk for “I want to drive” or “Can I drive?”

I countered with, “do you want to?” which was kind of unnecessary because he was already moving to the driver’s door. I figured the least I could get out of it was a hug. I asked if he wanted something to eat or drink. He took the ice tea. I won’t tell you about him drinking straight from the bottle or that I couldn’t bring myself to even complain about it. We’ll pretend it never happened.

“Do you want some brownies?” I asked him.

“Later,” he said. “I just ate.”

I offered the military police brownies before leaving. And as we drove home…or he did, we talked and talked and talked. We had an amazing conversation – I’ll post about that separately. That was yesterday. Within minutes of arriving home, I was in the middle of laundry and other preparations and so I’ll come back – later today, or early next week to as much of the substance as I can write about. That was yesterday.

We are a democratic country; so much so, we allow our enemies into our government and from the podium of our parliament, they have the freedom to call for policies that would destroy us.
Our current enemies, those who pose the most immediate threat lie to our north. This is Hizbollah land, where according to their leader Hassan Nasrallah, “We have discovered how to hit the Jews where they are the most vulnerable. The Jews love life, so that is what we shall take away from them. We are going to win, because they love life and we love death.”
Our enemies lie to the northeast. This is Syria. My sons have spent many months on the Golan Heights, including some tense days waiting to see how the Syrians would react after Israel sent planes to destroy a building widely believed to be the beginnings of a nuclear reactor. My oldest son fought near Gaza to help stop the rockets from being fired against Israel.
Our enemies lie further to the east. This is Iran, led by fanatics who promise that they will do all they can to accomplish in a few minutes more than what Adolf Hitler accomplished in six years of war. The Iranian leadership has made it clear in words and actions that they are after a nuclear bomb and that their goal is to wipe Israel off the face of the earth. Believe them.